The Man From The Mountains
I was returning from the first trek of my life — from Gosain Kunda, all alone. On my way back, I met a young man, a typical of the northern region. We had a small formal conversation, in which I mainly questioned him about his residence and all… He said he was traveling to Dhunche, to his sister’s.
After a while, I asked him about what he was doing those days. I had put forth such a question which revealed one of the most interesting (and sad too) stories I’ve ever heard. Then, he began, “I used to possess two container trucks. I took loans to buy them. They fed me enough and I was repaying the loan. Without even completing half of the loan, one fell down from the hill.” I was utterly surprised to hear such a big loss. As a normal “human being”, I was trying to comfort him. The roads in the mountainous regions of Nepal are old and narrow, and accidents and falling off are frequent. I realized it wasn’t abnormal either.
He then continued, “Three months later, I had to sell another one. I couldn’t pay off the loan.” I was speechless. He didn’t stop, he continued, “With some money left after repaying the loan, I set up a small retail shop in Dhunche, but it didn’t feed me enough. I had to look for another source for living.” And, another disappointment! I was stammering and few words emerged from my mouth, “What did you do next?” I, then, thought that I needed to be very careful with the words while talking to him.
“Mules are not so expensive in the northern region, you know!” he told with a small pretentious smile, and I had to stretch my lips. “I bought about ten mules and then I used them to transport goods from Dhunche to Gosain Kunda. People usually pay about fifty rupees per kilo to transport, and that paid me enough.” I was bit relieved, and I expected more of his story. I wanted to know every small details of what’s happened in his life, but I reckon that’d breach his privacy, and I even thought it would be unethical to inquire for more.
However, I didn’t have to question. He continued himself, “Only four of ten mules remain. Some died of disease and some died of accidents.” That wasn’t so shocking, after the setbacks he had. I might have even said to myself — “yeah, it’s less hazardous.” Now, he started questioning me about the business prospects in the Southern Nepal, from where I belonged to. Then, he clarified about his desires of starting business in southern cities of Nepal, where he could have something “not-disastrous” and “not-accidental”. I wanted to bow to him to show respect for his courage.
I wanted to know his age. Immediately, I asked for it and he said with a soft voice, “I’m 29.” And I was thinking- “Will this man ever fail to amaze me?” He suddenly asked, “Have you married?”
“Wait. What? I’m just 17 and you expect me to be married. No, I’ve not married.” I replied, “Well, that’s not so surprising here. I’ve two broken marriages; I was first married while I was 18. Girls usually have a child here when they are 16.” And my heart torn into pieces. I had seen some girls of my age holding children in their laps. I’d assumed the children were their siblings, but now I’ve a different insight. Suddenly, I remembered reading somewhere that the place was also known for child and early marriages.
I asked him if he had any children. He replied, “two girls, and both of them hate me for being a failure. I can’t see my girls disliking me, and so, fulfilling their wishes, I’ve joined them in schools in the capital, and they stay there at the hostel.” I questioned myself what would I do if I were him.
I don’t think he possesses courage unlike any ordinary human being. Despite being such a “loser”, he believes he can reopen a new business migrating into a completely unfamiliar place. Despite being such a “broke”, he still believes one day his girls will love him for his spirit. He believes that these dark clouds of the lonely nights will vanish away, and he will see a new sunrise of prosperity and love.
I won’t ever forget this meeting. Very few number of people can change our lives truly, for once and for all, and he is one of those few people in my list. I feel ashamed to admit that I forgot to ask him his name. So, whenever I recite this tale, I end up calling him “THE GREAT”.
